


Blades of the Heart

by WeMustFormVoltron



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 10:31:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15749889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeMustFormVoltron/pseuds/WeMustFormVoltron
Summary: In a world where you and your true love are connected by a red string, you'd think that love would be a lot simpler. However, between traveling the galaxy, fighting a war, starting a resistance, and being a teenager, things tend to get just a little bit complicated.





	1. Far, Far Away.

This was it. It was Hunk’s big day: the day he finally was able to locate his soulmate. 

The words “Happy Tenth Birthday” were carefully written on his cake in a calligraphy style font. He knew that it wasn’t his mom’s homemade cooking, but he didn’t expect her to make a cake for so many people. Even little Hunk, tired and in his Sesame Street pajamas, couldn’t have dreamed of this many people in one place, all for him. It felt like everyone he had ever met was there, even people that he’d only seen once or twice. As he let out another sleepy yawn, the clock in front of him proudly displayed the time: 12:02. 

“One more minute to go, sweetie,” his mom encouraged. “I remember when I first saw my string. It’s very exciting!” She twirled her finger around something that nobody could see except for her husband- Hunk’s father- who smiled warmly. It was weird seeing people fiddling with their strings. How can something you can’t even see be so real to someone else? Hunk glanced down at his pointer finger. In just a few seconds, he would be able to see the thin red string connecting him to his soulmate. One day, he would follow it to his perfect match, the person that he’s destined to fall in love with. Of course, that raises questions and doubts in his young mind. What if he doesn’t like his soulmate? What if his soulmate doesn’t like him? What if he’s not even able to see his string? These thoughts instantly subsided when the clock struck 12:03. 

“It’s time,” Hunk said, smiling, as he placed his hand in front of him. “Thirty seconds.” His family and friends crowded around him, some patting his shoulder encouragingly, others closing in around him eagerly to see his reaction. The seconds ticked away until he saw a thin red string around his finger. As it appeared, he felt some sort of strange buzz flow through the string, into his arm, and up to his heart. It was as if the string connected to his heart instead of his finger, but he knew that that wasn't true; the string was secured with an elegant bow just below his top knuckle. If the same exact thing hadn’t happened to everyone that Hunk had met, he would not have believed that it was happening at all. 

People around him were talking to him, and he knew this, but how could he focus on what they were saying with this strange new feeling buzzing through his veins? His soulmate, whoever they were, was probably feeling it too. He smiled wide, thinking about his mystery partner and searched around to see where his string lead. When he finally figured out which way his string was going, he visibly stiffened. Hunk had never seen a string before, but he was positive that it was not supposed to be going up through a hole in the roof of his small house. It was then when he realized that he couldn't just stay silent for the rest of the party, and he looked around at the people celebrating him and his soulmate. His eyes were almost betraying him by being wide from the shock, and the guests ecstatically congratulated him, some asking questions that he couldn’t really answer.

“Is your soulmate a girl or a boy?”

“Where does your string lead?”

“How long is it?”

His mom sliced up the fancy cake and gave everybody a piece, making sure that he got the part with his name on it. It was odd feeling the sensation of the string moving along with his hand, but he was sure that he would get used to it. He dug into the cake and ate it happily. 

“Is it good, kiddo?” Hunk turned to his mom and nodded, his mouth full of the sweet treat. The cake tasted better than anything that he’s ever eaten, and he tried to savor it. His dad slung his arm around the boy’s little shoulders as his mom continued to speak. “I’m so proud of you, my boy. Your soulmate is a lucky person. Which way does the string point? South?”

Hunk nodded, trying his best to hide the fact that the string did not go south. Or north. Or east, or west. He ate some more cake and smiled at everyone, pushing away the growing anxiety in his stomach and praying for everyone to leave. Finally, at 12:48, the house cleared out and Hunk was able to sneak out of his house and follow the string. He ran through the woods, bobbing and weaving frantically through the foliage. 

The string must be stuck somewhere, he reasoned. A part of him knew that this wasn’t true, but he refused to accept it. He was told that the strings are never wrong, but this had to be some sort of mistake. There was no way that this was possible. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go. He kept running until he reached a clearing on the top of a hill, and looked up into the sky. 

Defeated, he sank down to his knees, feeling the mud on his pajamas. 

His father always told him that he was so happy when he saw his string. Hunk remembered the story like he was there: his dad, Sione, turned 10, and his string was pointing straight to his best friend, Tamah, his mom. As soon as their eyes met, they were in love. They said that Hunk would get to feel that one day. Tracing his string off into the distance with his eyes, he wondered how. The strings were supposed to go north, east, south, or west, somewhere you can travel. Tears were streaming down his face, but he didn’t care. He didn’t understand. Strings were supposed to lead to your soulmate. Why is his different?

He wiped his cheeks, hoping for the best. Maybe his soulmate was on a plane, flying somewhere cool. He wondered if they could see their string pointing straight down at him, sitting on a hill in his pajamas. Maybe they couldn't even see theirs yet, and they were still wondering about who their soulmate could even be. Hunk was only ten, but he knew that being negative at a time like this wouldn't do anybody any good. He let out a final yawn before deciding that he has had more than enough adventure for today. The little Samoan began his journey back home, wondering about his soulmate, and why they were so far up that his string disappeared into the night sky.


	2. Heart of a Warrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry!!!!!! Consistent updates will start now!!! At least one a week!!!

Keith examined his blade, watching it shimmer in the light of the moon. His blade was incredible- perfectly sharp, perfectly balanced, and perfectly able to saw through the red string hanging off of his finger. 

It had only been there for a couple of quintants, but it was already interfering with his combat. He couldn't flip, move, or fight the same way that he could before the stupid thing showed up. All of the Blades told him that he would get used to it, because everybody gets used to it, but their strings weren’t going straight up into the sky, were they? It sucked. He hated his string. He didn’t even want to have a soulmate in the first place. The boy tugged on his string experimentally before slicing into it. He wanted it off. He wanted it gone! He sliced again, but the string didn’t even begin to fray. He was starting to get agitated.

“Ugh,” Keith groaned, “why won’t you just break already?!” He swung at the stupid, pointless, annoying red string a couple more times. He turned to look at his progress, and saw that the string hadn’t even moved. The half-Galra screamed in agitation before flopping onto the ground.

A familiar voice came from behind him. “Honey, you know that you cannot break your string. Besides, why would you want to? There is a very nice alien on the other end, waiting for you.” His mother scooped him up in her arms before placing him down on his feet. “Besides, maybe your string has some sort of tactical advantage!”

“We both know it doesn't, Mom.” The Blades usually used their strings to knock opponents off their feet, or, in extreme cases, to sever hands or heads from their bodies. Their invisibility gave their owners a huge combat advantage. Keith, however, can’t just rip his string out of the damn sky, so he’s less mobile and at a disadvantage. It sucked. Keith was about to try to cut his string again, but he was soon struck with an absolutely brilliant idea: can he just rip his string out of the dam sky? He thought about it for 1.8 seconds (which was not long enough), took a deep breath, and jumped up on his string to pull it down. He braced his body for impact.

His body stayed poised in the air. Where the hell was the impact?

He made the mistake of looking down, and saw that he was dangling a few feet in the air, the blueish soil too far away for him to touch while hanging onto the string. How could this thing support his weight so easily? Sliding down to the ground, the hot-headed hybrid took a few steps backwards before charging at the string. Once he got close, he leaped into the air and grabbed the string. He swung through the air, and thought briefly of a human children’s story that his father had told him. 

For the entire day, Keith and his warioress mother saw what types of strange things he could do with his string. He found that it’s actually perfect for gliding through the air, or for hanging off of until he could leap onto an unsuspecting guard’s face. When he thought that he had gotten close enough to mastery of his string for one day, he took a seat on the soft ground, entertaining the thought that his string- his skills- he might finally be useful to the team. He surely hoped so. 

“Keith, is there something on your mind?”

Krolia sat down next to him, quickly noting that something was off. He traced his string with his eyes, following it into the sky. This string was just another thing that made him different. It was hard enough to cope with a weird kid, which Keith certainly saw himself as, but he’s an entirely different species! And now, on top of all of that, his string did not point to any other sensible Galra, not even Lotor (which Keith might have even preferred), but to a small hunk of rock in the middle of nowhere, with no other life anywhere near it. 

Keith let out an irritated sigh. “What is it about earthlings that makes them so inconvenient?”

Her mother smiled. “It’s the same thing that makes them so interesting. Would you like to hear a story about one?”

“My father,” the halfling assumed.

“I crash landed on Earth, looking for Voltron. This was before The Battle of Daibazaal, of course. We were trying to get to it before Lotor could.”

Keith simply nodded. 

“The lion was in my sights, but I was too weak to even crawl to it. I thought I had failed. But then, something amazing happened. Your father, a simple Earth man, hoisted me over his head, took me to his home. He fed me, and dressed my wounds, and tried to heal me with what he had.”

“You could have snapped him like a twig.”

“Correct. And yet, he healed me as if he had the means, gave to me as if he were a rich man, and loved me as if I had a string.”

Keith gazed into the black expanse of space above his head. “Are all humans that stupid?”

“Most.” 

The two sat in silence for a little while, thinking about the strange species of earth people. He only knew what he heard in stories, but they sounded pretty helpless so far. The first thing that he’ll ask his soulmate, he decided, will be how such a weak race has lasted so long. With this thought, he rested his head on Krolia’s armor, and fell asleep dreaming of this planet where outsiders are welcome, and wondering how much longer they have until Lotor finds them.


	3. Necessary Sacrifices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hdkdbdkbdkdbdkbsknsjs  
> -the author

The captain looked at the vast expanse of war ships in front of her. The stars and the battalion were almost plentiful enough to remind her of the flowers that grew by the creek on her home planet. Oh, how things have changed since then. She allowed herself a brief period of lamenting, almost brief enough to go unnoticed, but thought no further of her past. She gently grasped her mic, turned on a monitor, and spoke. The ears of the universe seemed to be listening.

“Lotor, of the previously known planet Daabazal, I am Captain and Empress Allura. You are an unfit ruler. Surrender Voltron at once, or face the consequences.” Her voice was calm: almost apathetic, but clearly not. She adjusted her cap and waited for a response. 

Lotor replied with an even more relaxed tone, which was chilling once Allura realized that he truly did not care about the battalion that was about to be destroyed. “It would be best if you left my galaxy, Allura. These petty fights are getting out of hand. How unbecoming of you.”

“These are not petty fights,” the Empress shot back, trying to restrain herself. “You are a threat to the universe, and a disgrace to your race and your wretched bloodline. Surrender, or your fleet will be obliterated.”

“I think not.” Lotor sipped his drink- something stolen from a terrestrial planet in the Milky Way- and gripped the handles of his ship. “I’m retreating back to base,” he said into his communication device. “Protect the prisoners and Unit Alpha.”

Alpha! Allura tried not to smile, realizing that what she needed was here, most likely in the larger ship off to the left. She turned off the monitor. “Unit Alpha is here. We must retrieve it at once.”

“He mentioned prisoners, Allura,” protested her closest friend and most trusted advisor, Coran. “We have to save them. They could be other Alteans, or allied races.”

“Or they could be Galra scum, or some sort of half-breeds.” The Empress scanned for traces of Voltron’s precious metals, and found that it was on the lower deck of the ship she identified. “It needs a pilot, so we won’t be able to fly it out. We need to destroy the ship and then catch it somehow.”

“Allura,” Coran interrupted again, “that will kill everyone on board. Think about this.”

“I’ve thought about this the second Voltron left our hands. If one of Lotor’s men is the Black Lion’s paladin, Voltron itself will be hopelessly corrupted.” She took a breath and pulled up her communications system. “Attack the largest ship. Destroy it. Look for the Black Lion.” Without looking, she knew that all of her fleets obeyed. She did not look when she heard the blasts of her fleet upon the ship, and she did not look when she heard that the hull had been broken, dooming the ship to failure. She didn’t even look at the sound of a large explosion, signaling that the ship had been destroyed. She did, however, look when she heard a shriek from one of the newer crew mates, saying that the lion was flying.

And sure enough, it was. The Black Lion was flying with the skill of someone who had flown before, at least once. She pressed a couple of buttons and turned on her monitor, seeing three ugly-looking creatures piloting her sacred lion, the one she intended to fly. “State your name and purpose at once,” she demanded. “Surrender the Lion. We come in peace.”

“No,” replied the pilot, a large man with a scar on his nose and the strangest looking ears that Allura had ever seen. “Absolutely not! I’ve trusted way too many space aliens, and where did it get us? Way too far from Earth, I’ll tell you that.” He gestured for his companions to duck behind the pilot’s chair. They obeyed, hiding from view. 

“State your name and purpose, and give back the Black Lion!” She was furious now, aiming her ion cannons at the humans. 

“I am Takashi Shirogane. My crew mates and I are going home.”

“You’re almost out of quintessence and you’ve never flown your lion before. You don’t even have a bayard! Do you even know where you’re going?”

“I don’t have to. My string points the way.” He turned his Lion, presumably pointing it towards his home. “Good luck with whatever it is that you’re doing, though.” The Lion let out a thunderous roar and sped away, too fast for Allura to chase.

A silence, thick and terrible, fell upon the group. Again, a Lion had been in their grasp, and again, they lost it. “Next time,” the Empress bitterly remarked, “we kill the prisoners first.” Coran opened his mouth to dissuade her from doing so, but knew that it would do no good. He silenced himself and let his dear friend wash the taste of defeat from her mouth. She quickly did, standing up straight and looking down at her string. 

Now, Coran could bring himself to speak. “Where is he, Allura?”

She gripped the controls to the ship. “Lotor is to the north of us. Let’s see if he’s moving the other lions.”


End file.
